by James Ross
When Leslie arrived at the receptionist’s desk, Shari was livid and on the attack. “I can’t believe what that son-of-a-bitch did!” Tears formed in her eyes. “He totally humiliated me!”
“Who?”
“Flaccid.”
“Tyler Cy? What did he do?” Leslie turned and led her client down the hall and into her office.
“He wasn’t even there.”
“Then how could he humiliate you?”
“That bastard resigned from Olde Blueblood. I went in to play golf and the head pro told me to leave or I would be arrested for trespassing. All the ladies saw me leave in a hurry.” Shari grabbed a cigarette out of her purse.
“That’s a no-no.”
“I thought so too.”
“No.” Leslie pointed to the cigarette. “That.” Shari reluctantly threw the Marlboro Light into her purse. “A country club membership can be construed as marital property. We’ll have to petition the court.”
“You’re going to wear me out with all of these legal phrases.” A laugh ensued followed by a hacking cough.
Leslie was humored. “I’ll try to be as simple as I can.” She took a moment to think of an easy solution to the problem. “The membership had value. What is it to join?”
“Heck if I know. I think it was a corporate membership. Tyler Cy ran it through the real estate company and several guys in the office could play.”
Leslie furrowed her brow. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. That’s problem number one.”
“All I want to do is go to the club and play.”
“I understand Shari, but your life is going to change. You may have to go play somewhere else this summer.”
“But I want to stay at Olde Blueblood.”
“That’s understandable. Who wouldn’t?”
“Don’t I have rights? That’s what I’m used to.”
“Sure you do and I’ll try to get a quick ruling from the court, but for now you better plan on playing somewhere else.”
“Isn’t that cruel punishment?”
“The court won’t look at it that way. The judge will only look at the value of the membership. You’ll get paid half of that when the divorce becomes final, but if it is a corporate membership that he dropped then that’s a different issue.”
“That doesn’t do me any good now.”
Leslie shook her head. “No decision will come quickly. Even if the judge rules that Tyler Cy has to return your membership to you, the members of the club may elect to deny your application. You won’t be able to apply for a new membership at Olde Blueblood and get sponsored. The good ol’ boys will shut you out.”
“I’d be blackballed?”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be called that, but if they vote to not allow you into the club you can’t become a member.”
“Then sue him for taking that away from me!”
“Be patient. Let me petition the court.”
The more Shari listened the more infuriated she became. “Damn him!” She paused for a second to think. That was always a better idea than reacting emotionally. “I’m used to that lifestyle. Can’t the court make him pay for it?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. That’s what the judge will have to decide after all the valuations come in.”
Shari simmered and stewed. “I’ll get his ass for doing this to me.”
“How?”
“He’s trying to buy some property and build a golf course on it.”
“Good for him.”
“It’s his signature deal. He plans to build a championship golf course and put home sites around the property to pay for it and then retire.”
“That could be a ten-year project.”
“Of course. Anyway that was one of the reasons he wanted to go to Mexico. He was down there getting ideas so he could write the trip off on his taxes.”
“You want to turn him in for tax fraud?”
“No, no, no. Nothing like that.”
“Explain to me how you plan on getting back at him”
“He needs favors. I know what to do to screw him up.”
Leslie thought for a minute. “Why would you want to do that? You’d only be hurting yourself.”
“It’s his prized lifetime achievement and I’d love to get even with him for doing this to me.”
“What kind of favors does he need?”
“There are environmental issues and an oil pipeline on the property.”
“You should have said that in the first place. Now you’re talking to the right person.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m an environmentalist. There are influential politicians that I know.” As an activist for women’s rights, environmental causes, as well as animal rights she was extremely active in the STL community. On the national level she was a proponent of nuclear disarmament and abortion rights as well as education reform. “Let me do some research on the division of marital property issue and country club membership.” Leslie rubbed her hands together. “And I may be able to help you from the political end too.” She got up from her chair. “In the meantime find another place to play golf. You’re not wanted at Olde Blueblood anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The great room in the Donnelly residence was twice the size of a studio apartment in a New York City skyrise. A circular see-through fireplace sat in one corner with enough room on the window side of it for a card table that always had a jigsaw puzzle in progress. On each side of the card table was a leather recliner with accompanying reading lamp, neither of which ever received Shari’s presence.
There were assorted antiques, various pieces of art, and a large screen TV. Bookshelves mostly filled with real estate oriented material, an L-shaped sofa, coffee table, end tables, ottoman, and bouquet of flowers completed the look. A stylish throw was always available for chilly nights. The space was Midwestern—practical and livable—and with Shari’s good taste, trendy as well.
A corner of the couch was occupied by Shari that evening when Tyler Cy walked into the kitchen from the laundry room which adjoined the four-car garage. She sat coolly reading the latest Hollywood supermarket rag and enjoying her favorite Chardonnay. She waited for Tyler Cy to open the refrigerator, peruse the offerings and settle on a soft drink and an oatmeal raisin cookie from a jar on the counter.
“You didn’t put poison in this, did you?” Tyler Cy said as he savored the first bite.
“Maybe.” Shari fumed. Immediately noticeable to Tyler Cy was the one word answer. Shari always had something to say.
“How was your day?”
“Embarrassing.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Who cares?”
“Me.” Tyler Cy took a sip of his beverage and waited. He had seen it before and braced himself for the wordy onslaught that was coming. “I’m concerned about the direction each of us is headed during stage two of our lives.”
“Bullshit.” Shari brought two fingers of her left hand to her mouth, wet them, and turned a page in the magazine. “I thought we had a nice trip to Mexico. It was cordial. I want to thank you for taking me.”
“You’re welcome. You got some sun and a neat hairstyle and I got to view some golf course developments.” He finished his cookie. “That hair style is growing on me. It looks better and better each time I look at it.”
“Hmmmph!” Shari turned another page. “Cut the crap Tyler Cy! You didn’t have to do that.”
“What?”
“You know. Don’t play stupid.”
“No, really. What happened?”
“You totally humiliated me today.”
Tyler Cy threw his hands up. “What are you talking about? I was at the office all day.”
Shari sprang off the couch and chucked the paper through the air. “Cut the crap! I was escorted out of the club today!” She took four steps in his direction and abruptly stopped. “You knew all along!”
“Know what?”
“Oh, you son-of-a….”
Shari stopped as a thought popped into her head. “Now I get it. You took me to Mexico to butter me up because you knew all along that you were pulling the membership at the club.”
“Did that go in effect today?”
Shari mimicked, “Did that go in effect today?” She shook her finger in his face. “You knew the whole time it was to go in effect today!”
“No, I didn’t. We had discussed it at the office a few months ago. Cash flow has been getting a little tight. We talked about ways to cut costs. I didn’t know the guys were going to chop the country club membership. Especially now; the summer season is starting.”
“Well they chopped it!” Shari placed both hands on her hips. “And in the process they totally embarrassed me in front of all the women in the Tuesday morning ladies league!”
“I’m sorry, Woobie.”
“Don’t try to sweet talk me you effing asshole!”
“I thought we agreed to be affable.”
“There you go trying to make yourself feel important!” Tears streamed down Shari’s face. She reached out to Tyler Cy. “Hug me.”
Where did this come from? Is she manic depressive? Tyler Cy embraced his wife. “I’ll talk to the guys at the office. They should have given us some advance notice.”
“Now what am I going to do?” Shari sobbed. “I’ve played with the girls for years.” She pulled herself together. “And we’ve had bridge club for what seems like forever.”
“Life is going to change for both of us.”
She broke away. “I want you out of my house.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Tyler Cy’s lawyer was adamant about not moving out of the house for legal reasons. He had instructed him to stay in the home.
Shari was well aware of that. “Then you make sure you stay in the basement.”
That news was welcomed. Tyler Cy liked the completely furnished lower level of their residence. He would have his own private condo and would be able to come and go as he pleased. “I’ve already assumed that would be the case.”
“My lawyer is going to have a lot more demands for you.”
“Bring them on. I’ve already told you that I don’t want the divorce. I suppose we’ll talk through our lawyers.” Tyler Cy walked into the kitchen, disposed of his soft drink can, and walked down a flight of stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was later the next afternoon. The bells attached to the front door of Raul’s Sports Therapy jingled as Shari made her entrance. She loved the ever-present fragrance that graced the massage therapy store. It was becoming commonplace for her to arrive, enter, close her eyes, and take a deep breath through her nose. It was invigorating. Sexual. Stimulating. The scents made her want to get on her hands and knees, crawl over an exotic rug and purr into her lover’s arms.
Raul appeared from a back room. “Shari!” The infectious smile quickly became inquisitive. “What did you do to your hair?”
Shari beamed inside, grateful that he noticed. “Do you like?”
Raul inched closer. He reached out and felt the beads on the end of the corn rows. “Sexy.” The smile reappeared and seemed to melt any inhibition she had. “How was Mexico?”
“Better than I thought.” She reached up and fingered the corn rows. “This is my self-expression all the way from Cozumel.”
Raul spread his arms and gave her a prolonged hug. “Nice.”
“It was our anniversary so we celebrated that. He wants to get back together.”
“What did you tell him?”
“There was no way. I don’t love him anymore.”
“How did he take that?”
“He’s hurt, but he’ll get over it. His business will replace me as the main attraction.” Shari searched through her purse. “Enough of that. Let’s get to what we can do.” She produced a bundle of hundred dollar bills.
“What the….”
“This should make it easy. Go to Cosmo Lofts and get a one bedroom apartment in your name. I’ll give you the rent money every month.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can’t come over to my house and I can’t go to yours.” Shari stroked her hand through his jet black hair. “A motel room cheapens it a little. This gives us a place to get comfortable and get away from things.”
“I don’t know about…”
“Don’t worry. I can pay for it. I just have to be careful and not have anything in my name while the divorce is going through.” She counted out $2,500. “This should secure the deposit and one month in advance. Once I get more of my cash advance I’ll give you enough to pay for the whole year.”
“Shari, that’s not…”
“It gives you an opportunity to get away from your significant other and kids,” she said as she hugged him, placed both of her hands on his buttocks and playfully squeezed, “and takes care of my needs when I need them satisfied.” Shari snickered. “Lord knows that never comes from home.”
Like any hot-blooded male Raul was tempted by the exciting offer, but he was concerned that what was once frisky activity was turning a bit too serious and complicated. He wore a tight-lipped grin and kept to himself as he broke away and sauntered to his appointment book at the front desk.
The cell phone in Shari’s purse rang. She looked at the caller ID and shook her head in dismay before answering. “I can’t talk right now. This isn’t a good time.”
A voice on the other end rambled for thirty seconds.
“It’s just not going to work anymore. I told you. It’s over.”
Shari listened again as the caller went into a diatribe.
“Look, it was fun while it lasted. But things are changing for me. I don’t know what you think, but you and I are history.”
Shari pulled the phone away from her ear as the voice on the other end went off on a tangent. She smiled at Raul.
When the voice stopped Shari said, “I’ve told you several times I don’t want you to call me anymore. I can’t afford for you to be calling me with the divorce going through. That’s on the advice of my lawyer.”
More chatter came from the other voice.
“We’ll address that later. For now I can’t have you calling me. We’re through.” Shari hung up and walked to Raul, shaking her head. “Sorry.”
“Who was that?” Raul could only hear one end of the conversation.
“Richie,” Shari replied.
“Who’s Richie?”
“It’s a long story, Raul.” Shari tugged at his arm. “Take me into the room and give me a massage.”
“Only if you tell me who Richie is.”
“Let’s just say that he’s been a boyfriend.”
“I thought I was.”
“Yeah, but you’re different.” She clutched his hand. “He’s bothering me right now. I’ve told him to leave me alone. He thinks that we’re going to get together after the divorce is final.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shari didn’t waste any time. It was Tuesday morning and her golfing pal, Ashlyn, was in the passenger seat of the Jaguar as the car headed across the bridge into Illinois. It wasn’t going to be a round of golf at the country club, but it was going to be an opportunity to play in the Illinois Metro Women’s League and meet some new faces on the other side of the river.
Crossing the Mississippi and entering Illinois always invigorated Shari. The metro sprawl of St. Louis, Missouri; the downtown high-rises; and the national park identified by the Gateway Arch were all in the rear view mirror. Ahead were farm fields, individual towns, and the politics of the State of Illinois—perhaps the most corrupt in the nation. It was hard to believe that the innocence of America’s Corn Belt could be swayed so mightily by the Chicago corruption. The money grab extended over 400 miles from south of the Windy City all the way to the union of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. The crooked politicians across the river from St. Louis could not help but be a part of it.
Shari reached for her purse and positioned it between her legs. She
unzipped a pouch and lowered the visor. She adjusted it so that her image could be viewed in the mirror.
“What are you doing?” Ashlyn asked.
“A little touch up,” Shari replied. “There might be some men at the course.”
“There are a lot of them.”
“Then it doesn’t hurt to look fresh.” Shari heightened the color of her cheeks.
“Watch the road!” Ashlyn yelled as Shari hit the shoulder of the interstate.
“It’s okay. I do this all the time.” Some eye liner was applied followed by lip gloss.
“That’s worse than texting.” Ashlyn was upset. “Stop it. The guys at Prairie Winds don’t care about all that makeup.”
The drive into Illinois wasn’t more than five minutes across the river. After crossing the fertile river bottom soil, the trek up the bluffs was a formality. The gentle roll of the land and scenic view of the STL skyline was the perfect setting for a golf course. Shari and Ashlyn were running a bit late (normal routine for the driver), and the parking lot was full as they pulled into the heavily-played public facility.
“Prairie Winds? I’ve never played it,” Shari said as she noticed the sign at the entrance to the parking lot.
“You’ll love it,” Ashlyn replied. The pair drove past the old two-story house that served as the pro shop and clubhouse. Immediately a bag boy greeted them and loaded their bags onto an electric cart. They were soon greeted by the head pro who instructed them to a starting hole. The format this morning was a shotgun start.
“He’s a hunk,” Shari said as she stared at him.
“That’s J Dub,” Ashlyn shared. “Keep your hands off of him. He’s married and quite the family man.” She tugged a golf glove onto her left hand. “His brother, Curt, is a different story though. The two of them own the place and Curt is a bachelor and a golf junkie.”
Shari smiled. “I’m not even single and I already enjoy this lifestyle.”
Ashlyn had been divorced for several years. “There are men everywhere.”
“And it’s real clear to me that we’ve got what they want.” The girls giggled.
